


every fragile thing shall rust

by littledust



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things Shiori gave Juri over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every fragile thing shall rust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KannaOphelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaOphelia/gifts).



> Title nicked from a Dorothy Parker poem.

**1\. A pencil**

The pencil rolls to a stop against her foot. Juri reaches down and picks it up, turning it over in her hands. It's violet rather than the standard yellow, patterned with lacy frills. It looks strange in her hand, callused despite her fencing gloves.

"Oh, that's mine!"

Juri turns to look in the direction of the voice. The girl in the seat behind her holds out her hand, cheeks stained red in embarrassment. "I'm so clumsy," she says, lowering her eyes. Her hair is the same shade as the pencil, and closer inspection reveals her socks trimmed with lace, like the pencil's pattern. Juri's lips twitch at the idea of coordinating school supplies with one's appearance and the girl's face falls even further.

"Here's your pencil," Juri says as kindly as she can. "I think it's sweet, the way it matches you."

The girl blinks at her as she takes the pencil, eyes wide with surprise. "You do?"

"I do," Juri says, covering the girl's hand with her own. "I'm sorry if it seemed like I was laughing at you. My name is Arisugawa Juri."

"Takatsuki Shiori," the girl mumbles, cheeks deep red once more. It really is adorable.

Juri smiles. "Do you have any interest in fencing?"

**2\. An orange rose**

_"Believe in miracles, and they will know your feelings."_

_What a cruel joke,_ Juri thinks, and the rose's thorns dig into her palm as she clenches her fist. In the language of roses, orange means desire, another cruelty.

They had a terrible fight over Juri's refusal to show Shiori the picture in her locket, the locket that Shiori gave her years ago with the joke that she could put a picture of her future husband in it. (They laughed, then, having already vowed to grow old together after a lifetime of adventures and no husbands.) _"I know that it's him!"_ Shiori screamed, tears in her eyes. _"I know who you're in love with, so why won't you just tell me? I thought--I thought we were friends!"_

Juri uncurls her fingers one by one. She should wash the cuts on her hand, but first she'll put the rose in water. A cup on her desk will have to serve until she can find a small enough vase.

_"I'm sorry,"_ Shiori said just an hour ago, knocking on Juri's door. _"I like knowing everything about you. I'm not interesting enough to have secrets. He'll fall in love with you soon, if he isn't already."_ Then she gave Juri the rose, speaking those words, and Juri felt something wrench out of place inside her.

"There are no miracles," Juri says aloud, testing out the words. She couldn't say that to Shiori, couldn't bear to put out the childish light in her eyes. Some semblance of adulthood creeps over her heart now, a shadow that tells her these feelings will be the end of their friendship.

**3\. A word of thanks**

"Juri-san."

There's only one person who calls her that. Juri feels herself turn, a flower that has no choice but to seek its source of light. "Hello, Shiori," she says. Her hand steals around her locket, tracing the familiar rose design, and self-hatred stabs her heart.

Shiori fidgets with the hem of her uniform skirt. Juri closes her eyes rather than look at her legs. "You must hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"Well, I wish you did!" Shiori bursts out, and Juri opens her eyes, surprised. Tears roll down Shiori's face, slowly at first, then in a steady stream. "You pretend that you don't care, but all the while you do! I came here to thank you for--for trying to help with Ruka, but I'm messing it up."

"You're welcome." Her own words sound cold to her own ears, distant. Shiori covers her face with her hands. Every sob is a thorn against her heart. Juri reaches out and catches her by the arm before she can run away. "Shiori."

Her crying quiets, though she keeps her face hidden. "Yes?"

"I'd like to be friends again."

**4\. A broken locket**

"Oh, I can't believe we've graduated!"

"What a boring ceremony! I thought the speeches would never stop!"

"Juri-senpai's speech was good, though. Can you believe she got that internship without even going to university? It pays you and everything!"

"Wah! Senpai is so cool!"

Juri doesn't bother to hide her smile as she walks past her classmates, gathered in a large cluster on the lawn. Their excited whispers fade away as she continues on, opening the door to the rose garden. Shiori asked her to meet her there after the ceremony. It's a spot that makes Juri think too many romantic things, but far be it from her to deny Shiori anything in their new, fragile friendship.

"Congratulations!" Shiori says as soon as the door shuts, and passes Juri a bouquet of roses. The roses are several different colors: yellow, red, orange. Juri buries her face in them and inhales. "I clipped all the thorns off, but be careful in case I missed one."

"Thank you," Juri says, smiling. This place is so peaceful. Why didn't she come here more often? Now she's leaving in a few days. Her smile slips a bit at that reminder, and slips further when Shiori says nothing more, hands clasped together over her heart as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. "Is something wrong?"

"I--I found something, a few months ago. I don't know how it got on my desk." Shiori's face looks--nervous? "If you put it there."

In her hands is a familiar locket on a broken chain.

Juri lets the roses fall.

"I didn't," she whispers, mouth dry. "I thought it was gone forever."

"Did you want it to be?" Shiori asks, voice so small. She steps forward, closing the space between them, and her upturned face is so sweet. "Did you want it to be, really?"

And Juri answers with a kiss in the garden, the smell of roses all around. The locket falls out of Shiori's hands and rolls under a bush, forgotten at last.

**5\. A hand**

When Juri wakes, gasping for air like a drowning woman, instinct sends her rolling out of bed before the nightmare can pull her under again. Tangled in bedsheets, she lies prone on the floor, her hand pressed against her chest. What is it doing there? Checking for ( _a locket, a sword_ ) a heartbeat? Juri lifts it up toward the dark gray expanse of her ceiling until it too blurs into the darkness, her breaths slowing to something more normal.

"How strange," she says aloud, then sits up.

Inhales again, sharp as a blade.

She's not alone.

"Juri?" the figure in her bed asks, voice sleep-blurred but all too familiar. "Did you fall?" The bedside light clicks on.

"I'm on the floor," Juri points out, but with wonder rather than sarcasm. She's looking up at Shiori _in her bed_ , brushing her mussed hair out of her eyes. Then Shiori smiles and holds out a hand to her. The gesture incites a rush of memories: the kiss at graduation, the small apartment, the job that resulted from her internship. All real things, true things, washing out the dreamy afterimages of a castle in the sky. What could be so frightening about a castle, anyway?

"I think my dreams are telling me to go back to fencing," Juri says, laughing out of genuine relief as well as to soothe Shiori's worry. She untangles herself, takes Shiori's hand, and climbs back into bed, laying the blankets over both of them once more. "I dreamed about castles and princes. There were two girls… but now that I've woken, I know that they're happy now."

"They are," Shiori says softly, and though Juri wasn't referring to the two of them (who _was_ she talking about?), she lies down once more, one arm curled around Shiori.

_This is real,_ she thinks, and closes her eyes.


End file.
